Saturday, 6 May 2017

Making Bosko

Mickey Mouse and Walt Disney got plaudits aplenty in the earliest part of the 1930s, but they weren’t the only cartoon studio getting attention in the papers.

Once Bosko began appearing on screens in mid-1930, someone’s publicity machine started getting into gear and a few articles praising the Harman-Ising cartoons began popping up in newspapers. I presume Leon Schlesinger was behind it, as opposed to Hugh and Rudy. Leon was fairly press savvy. If Warner Bros. had been behind the press campaign, the studio would have made sure its name got into the stories, but it’s not mentioned in the following article.

This piece appeared unbylined in the Washington Post of April 5, 1931. It outlines how the cartoons and praises the story construction, though the Bosko Looney Tunes strike me as being fairly plotless and similar to each other. Still, they’re energetic and fun to watch, and that’s the main thing.

I presume Welsh rarebit must have been something cheap and common way-back-when, unless the writer is making a reference to the Winsor McCay comic series. Does anyone even eat it any more? I’ve never seen it on a restaurant menu. And it isn’t like you can go to the drive-thru to satisfy your last-minute McRarebit pangs.

A FEW OF THE INTRICACIES INVOLVED IN A LOONEY TUNE
When the collaborators of the “Looney Tunes” animated cartoon foregather to plot plots—movie ones—reason flies out of the window. A topsy-turvy atmosphere is created similar to that which comes from reading “Alice in Wonderland.”
A group of serious men meet to hold a story conference before a new “Looney Tunes” is begun. They toil for a time like any body of sober literary men to construct a logical plot—action, adventures and tunes, in which they can involve Bosco, Honey, the animals and objects which people these Vitaphone song cartoons. Then suddenly—the logical plot once constructed—they take leave of all sanity and become like a group of demented men as they put the “looney” into “Looney Tunes.”
They abstract from the logical plot all logic sense and reality, so that the final result is a nightmare of nonsense. Yet through the Welsh rarebit dream appears the story plot originally devised—a plot originally plausible—which makes the fun of the resulting animation all the more effective. Producer Leon Schlesinger, cartoonists Hugh Harman and Rudolf Ising, the musical director, Frank Marsales, might easily be mistaken for a group of men who had taken leave of their senses as they vie with each other in suggesting ideas that will make the original story plot more ridiculous. Alice and the Duchess and the Queen of Hearts had nothing on them. Nor had the March Hare.
At last, when no more nonsense can be injected into the once plausible plot, the continuity and the original drawings of the various characters and objects are turned over to the animators and the photographers who work from four to six weeks on a one-reel animated cartoon.
Ten thousand tiny pictures are drawn or traced and photographed for less than 1,000 feet of finished film. Twelve artists do the work of animating the figures and inking in the outlines. Then these are turned over to the photographers who photograph each of the 10,000 drawings with an overhead camera which “shoots” one frame at a time.
Time and expense are saved when a part of the body—the head, say—moves and the rest doesn’t, by using the same drawing of the body and different positions of the head. This is done by laying the celluloid showing the body on the background and placing the celluloid showing the head on top of the two, keeping the relative proportions, of course. The camera then “shoots” through the celluloid, picking up the complete image, background and all.

Friday, 5 May 2017

Blow Me Down

The action in the Popeye cartoon Blow Me Down! (1933) gets a little distracting because characters are bobbing up and down even when there’s no music on the soundtrack. But I enjoy checking frames of the drawings of the fighting.



Willard Bowsky and Bill Sturm are the animators credited this time. Adolph Zukor hasn’t managed to be included in the opening titles yet.

Thursday, 4 May 2017

Quick Peter Lorre

A Peter Lorre scientist traps Bugs Bunny inside his scary mansion in Hare-Raising Hare. Here are some stretch in-betweens helping zip along the action.



Ken Harris, Lloyd Vaughan, Basil Davidovich and Ben Washam are the credited animators in the cartoon best-known for Bugs giving an orange monster a manicure.

Wednesday, 3 May 2017

Another Catastrastroke

Things happened to Jimmy Durante that never happened to any one else. If anyone else told you the story, you’d swear it was made up, that it was some kind of comedy routine. It wasn’t with Durante.

Here's one from United Press International that appeared in newspapers starting May 31, 1963. Every time I post one of these columns featuring Durante, I can always hear his voice in the quotes. I imagine you do, too. Dem’s da conditions dat prevail! Hot-cha-cha!

Walls Tumbling Down on Durante
By VERNON SCOTT

By UP-International
When Jimmy Durante returned from a recent personal appearance tour he pulled up in front of his home and discovered a catastrastroke.
His old homestead had been leveled to the ground.
"The only thing still standing was the chimney and the swimmin' pool," the Schnozz cried out, obviously still in shock. "You coulda knocked me over with a ton of feathers."
Sure enough, Jimmy's home for more than 30 years in Beverly Hills, had been demolished as thoroughly as Jimmy destroys pianos. "The first thing I do is look up my wife Marge, and I say to her, 'Marge, what's going on here? I turn my back and look what happens! No house!' And Marge tells me she can explain. But I still don't understand the explanation.”
DURANTE stroked his nose, more from affection than out of contemplation. It seemed to give him strength to continue his story. “Before I left town Marge says we need another bedroom in the house for our baby, Cecelia Alicia, who is now two years old. I says 'OK. Knock down a couple walls and add a bedroom.'
"But she got carried away. With the help of some bulldozers my little Marge knocked down every wall in the jernt. She tells me it was impossible to extend to the back door without knocking down the back of the house.
"So I says, 'Why didn't you extend to the front?' And she says, " 'We couldn't extend to the front without knocking down the whole front of the house.'
“It looks like they compromised and pulled down everything just to be sure there was enough space to add another room. "Maybe it's a good thing they tore down the house," Durante sighed.
"After all it was only a three-bedroom place. For a home in Beverly Hills that looks very bad. To tell the truth, I used to hear my neighbors grumble about having a house like that in such a nice community.
"And anyhow, Marge tells me it costs almost as much to repair a house as to build a new one. That's a fact."
The Durante swimming pool will remain intact and unused.
"I never swam in it before, and I ain't gonna swim in it now," he declared. "It's just to look at for prestige. Beverly Hills, you know."
How big will the new house be when it is completed? "I hate to tell you this," Jimmy said, hanging his head. "But it's only got three bedrooms. If you ask me, it's another catastrastroke!"

Tuesday, 2 May 2017

Take That, Walt

There isn’t a moment more satisfying in an MGM cartoon than Screwy Squirrel beating up that symbol of Walt Disney cuteness, Sammy Squirrel, in Screwball Squirrel.

Here are some shots of Sammy being oh-so-coy, grabbing his tail and twirling around on it.



“Oh, brother! Not that. Not that!!” Screwy says, summing up the feeling of Tex Avery fans everywhere.



Screwy takes care of things.



Claude Smith, ex-Disney, designed Sammy. All the animators on this cartoon—Preston Blair, Ed Love and Ray Abrams—spent time at Disney as well.

Monday, 1 May 2017

Rubber Hose Ostrich

The Ub Iwerks cartoon Jungle Jitters (1934) is, I presume, set in Africa, even though the girl in the short looks like a South Seas islander and does the hula to Willie Whopper’s ukulele accompaniment.

An ostrich (native to Africa and not the South Seas, I believe) shows up in one scene to dance to the hula music. Apparently, the bird is naked as (s)he covers up in embarrassment. Twice. Just in case we didn’t get the gag the first time.



We’re still into the rubber hose phase of animation here.



Bob Stokes and Norm Blackburn are the credited animators. Carl Stalling wrote the score.

Sunday, 30 April 2017

The Jack Benny BT Interview

Jack Benny gave a lengthy, wide-ranging interview to Broadcasting • Telecasting magazine that was published on October 15, 1956, discussing how and why he entered radio and television, writing his show, and his sponsorship and network changes.

Some of the answers seem a little unusual. Benny quit General Foods for American Tobacco solely because he wanted to plug a different product? Going back to when it happened, the trade press reported he wasn’t altogether happy with General Foods. And he completely ignores his sponsorship by Chevrolet. Benny expert Graeme Cree points out this wasn’t the only time he snubbed the carmaker in later years and believes it was intentional. If you don’t know, against the wishes of many Chevy dealers, the company’s president dumped the Benny show because he wanted a musical programme instead.

Note in 1948 how Benny (rather MCA) shrewdly sold CBS the Jack Benny radio show, not Benny and his characters. In a few years, Benny was free to negotiate another deal strictly for television under a different production company, maintaining all the characters of his radio show. Think of how, years later, David Letterman left NBC for CBS but NBC retained the rights to Larry ‘Bud’ Melman.

STARS SHINE BEST WHEN POLISHED

NO PERFORMER in broadcasting has kept at or near the top as consistently or long as Jack Benny. Here, in this recorded interview with B*T's Associate Editor Larry Christopher, Mr. Benny explains how he has kept his star shining for nearly 25 years.

Q: Jack, since you have sustained about the longest run on radio and television of a single personality during the past quarter of a century, your impressions are of special significance to the broadcasting profession at this time. For instance, how did you happen to decide to leave radio and devote full time to television?
A: I didn't have to decide. Television decided that for you. Tv and sponsors. There's no such a thing as making a decision there. You go where you have to go.
Q: The decision is not up to the entertainer?
A: No. Not at all. I don't care how good your radio program is at the moment, if you have to make a transition to television and if you don't make a good one, it certainly isn't good for the star.
Q: What are the problems for the star in making the transition?
A: Some people might be very, very good in radio and not make it in television because maybe before radio they haven't had real show business experience. On the stage. You see, television brings you back on the stage. I fortunately have had many, many years of experience on the stage, including vaudeville. Now, on the stage I used to do practically what Ed Sullivan does today except he goes for it pretty straight and I go for comedy. If I had started years ago and done that type of show, that would have been the type of show I would be doing today. Now that would have been easy for me to do — a weekly show as an m.c. As long as I knew the acts that were coming in I could prepare for it and also do some work with them. Outside of that, on my first year I sort of had to feel my way around and it seemed that the oftener I did them the better the shows were because I got into the groove like I did on radio.
Q: You're on your seventh year in tv on CBS-TV and with greater frequency than before, are you not?
A: For the last three years it's been every other week. Before that, once a month. Before that, once every six weeks. Before that, six a year and before that four a year. The fewer you do the tougher they are.
Q: The frequency keeps you sharper?
A: Not only keeps you sharper but you don't feel the responsibility that you have when you only go on four times.

Q: Did you feel a more significant responsibility?
A: Yes. If you only go on four times then every show has to be a knockout. This way, the way I go on now, if every show isn't great it doesn't make that much difference. I try to keep them great. Or let me say, I try to keep them from being lousy!
Q: Do you feel television is draining on your creative capacity much more than radio, the movies or vaudeville did?
A: I think it's a big drain on people. I must say fortunately it's been a little easier for me because of the build-up of the characterization over a period of years. This gives the writers something to hang on to. So that even though every program is different, it has something to do with my character and it isn't quite as tough to write. By that I mean you don't have to start off and say "let's write a show" like you do with some comedians who are fine and great comedians but haven't established characterizations. So when you start to write for them, you have to write a great show from the start that maybe has nothing to do with the fellow's character particularly.
Q: The impact of radio reaching such a mass audience, and later television adding its visual impact, these have been a vital factor in establishing this characterization, have they not?
Of course. It's the whole thing.
Q. You mentioned Ed Sullivan. Didn't you make your first radio appearance on his NBC show in 1932?
A. Yes, that's right. That's where they first heard me.
Q: How did it happen?
A: I had known Ed Sullivan for a long time and he asked me to be a guest on his radio show. At that time I was doing shows in New York in vaudeville. Vaudeville was beginning to die.

Q: Did you make a free appearance or for pay?
A: I don't recall. But the agency for Canada Dry ginger ale heard me and called me and gave me a job. We went on then for 39 weeks.
Q: What was your first reaction to this new medium after so many years on the stage?
A; Well, the reaction was a little bit frightening because in vaudeville you had one show and that was it. You changed it whenever you felt like it. And in this, when you realized that every week you needed a new show, this got a little bit frightening. But you storm through it some way because everybody is in that same spot.
Q: As a talent personality, what was it like to find yourself looking to a sponsor instead of a box office? Did you meet the Canada Dry people?
A: Oh sure. But I don't recall our first meeting. All I recall is leaving the stage show. You see, I was always looking ahead for something. Sometimes I left good jobs. I didn't have much money in those days. I was making good money, but I used to spend it all. But I always looked ahead. And I said, "If this is the new medium, then I must get into it." So I left the stage show, Earl Carroll's Vanities. I asked for my release from a show for which I was getting $1,500 a week. This was a lot of money in those days. And I left to try and get into radio. I didn't even have a job. I turned down $1,500 a week and didn't have a job. My wife agreed with me that I was doing the right thing. As a matter of fact, she sort of encouraged it. She said if it's the thing to do to get into radio, then get into it. Don't worry, she said, they'll find you someplace.
Q: Was radio inevitable in your mind?
A: There is probably no doubt even had I finished the season I would have gotten into radio sometime. But I realized while I was with the show that names we had never heard of before had become more popular around the country than we who had been in show business all of our lives. Some of these people had no background of show business. It was just the fact they were hitting the whole country all at once. So I thought, well, if these people are in it without any great backgrounds and have a bigger reputation than any of us around the country who have worked in show business all of our lives, this is the business to get into . . . And the only reason I got a release from the Vanities is because they were going back to the small cities after leaving New York and Earl Carroll at that time probably was very happy to lose me at $1,500.
Q: Who were some of the people who helped you develop your early radio shows?
A: The first writer I had was a fellow called Harry Conn. A very, very good writer. I had one writer only.

Q: Was Harry Conn responsible for developing some of your original characteristics so well known as your program personality?
A: Well, I would say this. That a writer falls into your characterizations because even in vaudeville I had some of these traits. But they were developed more in radio.
Q: You are known as the man who made a success of integrating the commercial into the format.
A: That's right. Well, I'll tell you a story about that. The first few weeks that we did it in a satirical way on the Canada Dry show the sponsor didn't like it and wanted us to stop it.
Q: Was that the nickel back on the bottle gag?
A: That's right. We did a lot of satires on the commercials.
Q: What was the first notice of the sponsor not liking it?
A: The sponsor wanted us to go back to the straight commercial, but the agency liked it and the agency said "they haven't had time to prove whether this is a good way to do it." So they allowed us another two or three weeks. And in the next two or three weeks the mail kept coming in so much to the sponsor that they liked this kind of advertising that they finally let us alone and let us do it. That is the only way that I would ever do it. Unless I had certain shows where it can't be integrated.
Q: With radio's impact on this new mass audience, you also soon learned you could develop star personalities quickly, new names like your wife Mary, singers Frank Parker, Kenny Baker, Dennis Day, Rochester and Schlepperman and Mr. Kitzel.
A: That's right. They had to have a certain amount of talent right away. They had no chance to develop it any place.

Q: The medium gave them the opportunity . . .
A: Yes, but the medium didn't give them the opportunity to improve themselves. Not like vaudeville where they would play certain towns, if they were bad in one town that was the only town that would know it and then they could go on to another town and improve. You know, I could have been bad in South Bend or Lafayette and by the time I got to Chicago a few weeks later I might have been a little bit better. But on radio, everybody had to be good right away and it's even more so on television.
Q: You had an experience of that in television last year when Leigh Snowden walked across the stage in San Diego.
A: She just walked across the stage. We've had some people who have been developed, but then most of them have to have some talent themselves. There's no question, you can't develop an untalented person. You might develop them for about 10 minutes, but I don't think that you can do anything with them if they haven't got talent.
Q: What do you do to help sustain talent and creative capacity? The demand is tremendous, isn't it?
A: We don't do anything. We just go along as we are. We make no effort to try to be exceptionally good and we don't try to make an effort to top any former show. We try to be good. If we had a great show last week, that doesn't mean that the next one we have to knock our brains out. As a result, the next one can be better because we haven't done that. We never did that on radio. Oh, sometimes I do a show with the Ronald Colmans. People say, "are you going to top it?" Well, I say, we're not even going to try. We just have a show. You may like this one without the Colmans better this particular week.
Q: You can't please everyone all the time.
A: That's right. And people aren't interested in that as much as whether they like you and your cast as personalities.
Q: The feeling of friendship and identification?
A: Absolutely. We always try to have good shows, but we don't knock ourselves out.

Q: One thing that has always distinguished your program in radio and now tv is the precision-like attitude given to each detail in its planning and follow through.
A: Editing. I think editing is the most important thing in all show business. I think editing is the most important thing in anything you do, whether you're making a speech, in politics, I don't care where you are. There isn't a first show that we write that would be good enough to go on. Editing is the most important thing that we do.
Q: After editing, what factors do you consider most important?
A: Well before editing there is something even before editing. Having good, likeable people, good personalities that the audience likes. There are these things. Then, after you get them, good writers, I'm saying after you get all this together, then comes editing.
Q: You stick pretty close to script after this final editing, don't you?
A: We take advantage of the situation for ad libs, but I don't think ad lib comedy is nearly as good as what you write. I would much prefer to get a laugh on what I've worked on all week and what I've paid a lot of money for than to get a laugh on something I might say in the middle of a program when something happens. However, if something happens in the middle of a program, then I think you should take advantage of it. When you've paid for it you don't want to drop it. I'd like to see some show go on and not write anything and ad lib it and see how far they would get. I don't think Will Rogers could have done that, or Mayor Walker, who was probably the greatest ad lib speaker in the world.
Q: Another aspect of this, touching on your current tv show, you do both live and film programs. Do you have a preference?
A: I like doing live shows. I like the intimacy of a live show, but it all depends on what type of a show it is. I'm getting a little more intimacy in the films now that I've made a few. At first it was a bit difficult.
Q: What is your technique of intimacy?
A: I'm talking about walking out and really addressing an audience instead of a camera.

Q: Is that difficult for an entertainer?
A: I think it is. Some people do it very well, like George Burns, who's had this experience for so many years. But of course, when we do a live show we do it a little differently than most of them. We don't have any cameras on the stage at all. Our cameras are in the back of the audience. So when I say intimate, I mean intimate. We're as close to an audience as we can get and they just sit and watch us as though you were watching a play at the Biltmore Theatre.
Q: What are the steps leading up to your show, its conception and planning. For instance, take your kickoff show on CBS-TV for Lucky Strike.
A: We just try and see what would make a good opening show. What's a good idea for an opening show. How would you open a season? I was going to New York after this first show to give a concert at Carnegie Hall for charity October 2. So we figured a good opening would be something that had to do with Carnegie Hall, with my going, with my preparing for it, you see. So we wrote along these lines.
Q: Your writing team has been with you a long time, hasn't it?
A: Sam Perrin and George Balzer have been with me, I think, going on 14 years and Al Gordon and Hal Goldman about eight years. We sit down here in my office in Beverly Hills and we knock off the idea. Some agree and some disagree on some of the different points. When we get to the point where we all agree, then, we discuss the steps of the show. How we should open. They then go away and they write it and then bring it back and we edit it. We go over it very carefully. Next we have our first reading here or at CBS and then I edit it again.
Q: Who is your producer and director.
A: Ralph Levy is director and executive producer and Hillard Marks is producer. We usually rehearse Friday, Saturday and Sunday and do the show Sunday.
Q: Getting back to your early radio show, after the initial 39 weeks for Canada Dry, where did the sponsorship go?
A: It went to General Tire, but just for about six months. It was a summer product. Next we switched to General Foods and six delicious flavors of Jello for many, many years.

Q: By 1940, it seems, the demand for Jello had been so built up by your program that there wasn't enough product to go around and the sponsor was required to put on another product. Isn't that true?
A: I think that finally the last couple of years they switched to Grape Nut Flakes. When we first took over for Jello, the product wasn't selling.
Q: Do you recall when the sponsor first expressed approval at the way radio was moving Jello off the dealer's shelf?
A: It took about the first season for them to realize that the product now was becoming very, very important.
Q: How long did you stay with General Foods?
A: About 10 years. It was in 1944 when I switched to Lucky Strike because I was in the South Pacific in '44 and when I came back I went with them.
Q: Why did you cancel your association with General Foods?
A: I just wanted to switch. I thought I should go with another product.
Q: About 1940-41, you had achieved a very unique thing with respect to your Sunday night 7 p.m. spot on NBC. You became the only personality in radio to control his own time period.
A: That's right. NBC gave me the time and as long as I was staying on it I could have the 7 o'clock period. Any sponsor who got me got that time.

Q: What were the steps leading up to this unique contract with NBC?
A: It came up because I had an opportunity to leave them. No. I'll tell you how it came up. I was going to leave General Foods the year before. That would have been 1940. I intended to leave my present sponsor and go with somebody else and my present sponsor wanted to keep the time whether I left him or not. So NBC came along and said if you will stick with General Foods this time we'll see that you'll always have 7 o'clock Sunday as your time. So I renewed with General Foods.
Q: Did Niles Trammell negotiate this for NBC?
A: Yes. But this was not contractual. This was merely a letter.
Q: When you dropped General Foods, how did you happen to sign with American Tobacco Co.?

SO, ON TO LUCKY STRIKE

A: There were five different companies that went after whatever deal we wanted. I don't recall at this time. The two of them we were trying to decide on were Campbell Soup Co. and American Tobacco and I finally picked Lucky Strike because of a man in the agency that I happened to know who represented Lucky Strike at that time, he sort of brought me over that way.
Q: Who was this person?
A: Don Stauffer.
Q: That was Sullivan, Stauffer, Colwell & Bayles then?
A: I believe so.
Q: Did you think this personal relationship was important for the best development of the show?
A: Well, I felt that I had one person whom I knew to work with should there be any problems. Because I used to hear at that time that the president of American Tobacco who was George Washington Hill was tough to work for. But we didn't find him that way at all. He was simply wonderful.
Q: Do you remember your first meeting with George Washington Hill?
A: Yes. I didn't meet him until about four months after I was working for him.
Q: Where was this?
A: I had lunch with him at his office. And he said a very, very wonderful thing to me. A very funny thing, let me put it that way. He knew he had a reputation for being tough, so as we sat down to have lunch he told me how much he enjoyed my programs. So I thanked him and told him that we always try to have good shows and that we were very fortunate on his show so far of having them pretty nearly all good, but sometimes we're not that lucky. He says to me, "Well, Mr. Benny, I only know one thing. Had your shows been bad, they never would have blamed you. They would say 'there's that so-and-so George Washington Hill to blame for that'."

Q: In later years you moved over to CBS and were one of the first to work out the capital gains arrangement so familiar throughout show business today. Like Amos 'n' Andy, the talent property became a business property, did it not?
A: That wasn't my case. My case was that I had a company and more than just my own show. We started on CBS Radio network Jan. 4, 1949. My company was Amusement Enterprises Inc. This is the company I sold. I didn't sell Jack Benny. I was just a stockholder in the company.
Q: The company itself packaged the programs and handled all the details of your activities?
A: That's right.
Q: I think this was one of the original capital gains arrangements in our profession. Wasn't the original case with General Eisenbook, which set the precedent after World War II, and then came Amos 'n' Andy?
A: Well, you see, Amos 'n' Andy had a legitimate deal because they themselves do not appear on any of their shows, so they have something all separate.
Q: They were selling the characterizations and you were selling a company?
A: I was selling a company with other shows. Like Let's Talk Hollywood. We had a movie, too. Whatever it was, the first year we had a profit-making company.
Q: What was perhaps the most influential factors in your decision to move from NBC to CBS?
A: To make some money like everybody else would like to make. That was the only reason. I was very happy at NBC. The deal was offered to NBC first. This was strictly a business deal for me to make some money. There is no way for an actor to make some money by getting a salary. If he depends on a salary, no matter how much he makes, he's going to go broke eventually. I wouldn't care if I worked for ABC, CBS, NBC or the American Trucking Co. if there was a chance for show business to make some money.

Q: The salary concept, then, has not been satisfactory . . .
A: . . . Oh, as far as earning, as far as salary was concerned, nobody could make any more money than I did. But suppose right now I make a half million dollars a week, let's go that broad; suppose I was given a half million dollars a week, but it was salary. What could I get out of it? About five dollars.
Q: While you were with NBC, I assume you got to know others in the NBC-RCA organization in addition to Niles Trammell. For instance, Gen. David Sarnoff?
A. Never met him until after I went to CBS.
Q. What was the occasion of your meeting General Sarnoff after you switched to CBS, do you recall?
A. Not at all.
Q: Had you met Bill Paley before you went to CBS?
A: Oh yes. I had known Bill Paley for some time. Bill Paley and I were friends without even discussing my ever moving to CBS.
Q: Had you known Dr. Frank Stanton previously?
A: No. Frank Stanton I only knew after I moved there. But Paley I'd seen a lot of at parties in New York. He might have said once, "I'd like to have you with us," and that would be the end of that.

Q: Your present contract with American Tobacco Co., is it coming up for renewal soon?
A: It's a yearly contract.
Q: Your characterization and comedy format through the years, Jack, have been unusually distinctive. Take Fred Allen, for example, your approach was different. Oh, I'm reminded of your big "fight" with Fred Allen. Didn't that start in 1936?
A: Something like that. It was an accident.
Q: Did you see immediate public reaction to this interplay?
A: No. As a matter of fact, we did it just as a gag between ourselves. It didn't start out to be a feud at all. It just started out with Fred Allen saying something which I picked up the next week and then he picked it up the next week and so on. The first thing we knew we had it. Of course, I've always said that if Fred Allen and I ever had gotten together and said "let's have a feud" it probably wouldn't have lasted a month as it would have been contrived. Imagine what Fred Allen, God rest his soul, would have said about my appearance at Carnegie Hall Oct. 2. If he knows anything about it now, he is talking plenty. Say, that would have been a good line to use at Carnegie Hall, wouldn't it?
Q: What, perhaps, was different about your approach to the transition from radio to television. Fred Allen never made the change. I think that's one of the saddest stories in show business, that a man of such great genius . . .
A: . . . Well, Steve Allen describes this very, very well in his book. That Fred Allen was one of the greatest writing and creative comedians in the business. He was a fine comedian, a great writer. Probably better than an acting comedian, you know. And so, therefore, it might have been difficult for him to find the right thing to do. But, sometimes, even he could have found it accidentally. He might have something right away that would have been great for television. Right away. But he just didn't happen to do it. But by the same reason he didn't, he also could have. He just didn't get into the right thing.
Q: Many of the other old timers in radio made the switch to tv and have had their problems. Eddie Cantor began a syndicated series for Ziv but had to give it up. He makes occasional appearances now.
A: Well, I think in Cantor's case his illness took a big toll there. You know, he had this bad heart attack a few years ago and then an operation before that. It's very tough to think and be able to be successful when you have these other worries on your mind. You're told not to do this and I imagine this would have quite an affect on anybody. A lot of his humor was physical too. Lots of jumping. No question he is a fine comedian.

Q: What about Danny Kaye's approach?
A: Well, he doesn't need anything. He doesn't need radio or television. His pictures, his personal appearances or wherever he goes, he does very big. He's a stylized kind of comedian who is excellent in what he does. He doesn't need any other facets of show business in order to stay one of the top comedians. Now, Bob Hope fits into everything.
Q: That takes considerable versatility.
A: Right. And energy. And he's got that. Besides, he's got a terrific personality and he's not only got a great wit but a great warmth in his personality. He finds time to do nice things for others. All together he's damn well liked. It's almost impossible for Bob to do the wrong thing. And if he does do any thing wrong, he's forgiven almost immediately.
Q: Your good friend George Burns has certainly found a successful home in tv.
A: True. And George Burns is a very, very creative comedian. He does what I do in the fact that he's always got his hand in everything. He's got his hand in it from the time they start on the show.
Q: This close attention is very necessary, isn't it?
A: I think very few comedians or stars can be successful and not be a part of the whole organization working to make it a success. Only in the movies can this happen.
Q: In the final analysis, the comedian has to deliver the entertainment product.
A: That's right. He either lives or dies with it.

Saturday, 29 April 2017

UPA Acclaim

In the world of film, there’s room for comedy, drama, adventure, mystery—unless it’s an animated cartoon. In that case, critics (for the most part) decided there was no room for comedy or, if there was, it must be subtle and underplayed.

So it was that critics fell over themselves to expound on the “realistic art” of Walt Disney and then later the “adultness” of UPA.

The UPA story has been told in many places, the tale of a studio that was deliberately anti-Disney, anti-Warners, anti-funny animal, where graphics were important and, perhaps to some of its artists, the only thing that mattered.

I’m afraid I can take or leave pretty much all of UPA’s theatrical output. Mostly leave. The artists seem to be trying too hard to be different, trying too hard to be droll instead of funny. To be honest, the most enjoyable UPA cartoons I’ve seen are the studio’s TV commercials. They are droll, if not funny, and the drawing style is different without clobbering the viewer over the head about it. Mind you, UPA wasn’t the only studio experimenting with character (and background) design and movement in TV ads at the time.

The New York Herald Tribune published this little primer on the UPA studio on November 23, 1953, skipping its pre-history and starting with the Columbia release contract. It’s not an out-and-out rave but shows its appreciation. As you likely know, the Thurber feature talked about was never made. Columbia didn’t think Thurber was box office enough; the same logic that resulted in Mr. Magoo being plunked into the studio’s eventual Arabian Knights feature. And if Rooty Toot Toot was a “tremendous success with children,” it had nothing do with the story. Children soon showed CBS what they wanted—bargain-basement Terrytoons instead of the coy Boing-Boing Show.

The Animated Cartoon Becomes a Full-Fledged Art
Poe, Thurber Stories Made Into Films

By THOMAS WOOD
HOLLYWOOD, Nov. 22.—Four years ago a group of young animated-cartoon experts banded together for the express purpose of taking their product out of the pictures-for-kids or “cat and mouse” stage. They called their company UPA, for United Productions of America, and in the short time they have been active they have completely revolutionized the animated cartoon.
While their break with tradition was not clean—their first releasing contract called for three “Fox and Crow” cartoons—their initial effort, “Robin Hoodlum,” was so original and mature that it was given an exclusive run in the so-called “art circuit.”
Since then, UPA has ticked off many a cartoon milestone and won a gross of awards here and abroad. In 1950, for instance, three of its nearsighted Mr. Magoo films were selected for exhibitions at Edinburgh.
That same year the company won its first Academy Award for “Gerald McBoing Boing,” a highly imaginative cartoon about a little boy who spoke sound effects rather than words. And last year it received an Oscar nomination for “Rooty Toot Too,” a lusty interpretation of the famous legend of Frankie and Johnny, but was beaten in the award by a “Tom and Jerry” picture.
“Rooty Toot Toot” is regarded around the company’s tiny studio in Burbank as the turning point in its history. The subject matter, which is concerned largely with sex, lust and murder, was a distinct departure from anything ever dealt with in animated cartoons. Its tremendous success, both with grown-ups and children, paved the way for further explorations into uncharted fields.
One example of UPA’s new adventures is a cartoon translation of a contemporary literary classic, Ludwig Bemelmans’ “Madeline” (recently shown in New York). This is the story of twelve little schoolgirls in Paris who do everything in unison like brushing their teeth, smiling at good deeds and frowning at bad ones. They live such identical lives that when one gets appendicitis, the others all want it, too.
This unusual project has been approached with great reverence. Bemelmans’ unique art style has been faithfully followed throughout. Some of the colors have been intensified here and there, perhaps, but the end result is as typically Bemelmans as if the artist-author had animated it himself.
Soon UPA will release two other animated cartoons which also are visual counterparts of famous stories—“The Tell-Tale Heart,” by Edgar Allan Poe, and a fable of our time, “The Unicorn in the Garden,” by James Thurber.
The art approach in each instance has been set by the tone of the original. Poe’s story is ghoulish and somber, so the characters and the settings take on some of the atmosphere of a Charles Addams’ drawing. This film has been a labor of love in this respect, for the artists at UPA are extremely fond of Addams’ work, and some day they hope to bring some of his sinister people to the screen.
Light, Gay Fable
As for the Thurber fable, it is light and gay, like his drawings, and the animators have simply assimilated his style. Some minor liberties have been taken with the colors, though, because there is no evidence that Thurber ever worked in anything but black and white. But if he had, the UPA artists feel certain that he would have used colors as sparingly as they have. Similarly, they have applied sloppy washes to the backgrounds on the simple theory that if Thurber had ever attempted to fill in his backgrounds, he’d have been sloppy about it.
UPA is pinning great hopes on its Thurber picture, by the way, because if it is successful, the company hopes to follow it up with a full-length feature based on his famous “Battle of the Sexes.” Some time ago, they took an option on this work but haven’t yet been able to raise the necessary backing, which is estimated at $500,000.
Despite the acclaim which greets its work, UPA has not yet broken down the distributors’ resistance to full-length animated cartoons of a non-“Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” character, but the company doesn’t intend to give up trying.

Friday, 28 April 2017

Wile E. Cat

You remember that cartoon where Wile E. Coyote tip-toed from right to left carrying something, giving a knowing side look to the camera before entering his cave?



Oh, wait. This is Wile E. Coyote wearing a Tom costume. Isn’t it?

The cartoon starts with Jerry mouse drinking some kind of potion that makes him as fast as a, um, roadrunner. About the only thing missing in Is There a Doctor in the Mouse (1964) is a pile of purchases from the Acme Company.

We get Warners directors, Warners artists, a Warners writer, Warners sound effects and even Warners voices. We also get a slick-looking cartoon that’s really boring.